Death Eaters Do My Robes
by Epik X
Summary: A crossover between Gennifer Choldenko's Al Capone does My shirts and the Harry Potter books. This just popped into my head one morning, so please leave feedback!


**DEATH EATERS DO MY ROBES**

A Crossover between J.K Rowling's Harry Potter and Gennifer Choldenko's Al Capone Series

**By Wesley Bowen**

**Your text here**

_To all of my teachers for introducing me to writing, J.K Rowling for publishing some of the best books I have ever read, and to Gennifer Choldenko, for whose intriguing books about Moose Flannagan, Alcatraz Island Boy really inspired me._

**DEATH EATERS DO MY ROBES**

Wesley Bowen

_To Whom It May Concern, for the timeline, this book takes place in 1972. Lily and James potter were killed in October 1981, and Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone took place in 1990. In that case, Deathly Hallows took place in 1998, so this takes place about 20-30 years before the first Harry Potter._

**1. Dark Lord's Island**

Friday, January 4, 1972

Today I moved to a 15-acre rock covered with cement, topped with owl dung, and surrounded by water. Azkaban sits smack in the middle of the coast of England—so close to the wizard city Quanton you can hear a Twigger 90 zooming across a quidditch pitch. Okay, not that close, but still.

I'm not the only kid who lives here. There's my sister, Olivia, but she doesn't count. And there are fifty-two other kids because their Dads work as guards or cooks or healers or dementor-handlers. Plus there are a lot of Death Eaters, lunatics, kidnappers, and maybe even innocent men, though I doubt it. Our neighbors are people like Gellert Grindelwald, Albert Dumbledore, and of course, You-Know-Who's right hand man… ahem, excuse me, You-Know-Who's right hand _woman,_ Bellatrix Lestrange.

I want to be here like I want an itching charm on my private parts, but apparently no one cares, because I'm Wesley Bowen, Azkaban Island Boy—all so my sister can go to the Albus W. P. B. Dumbledore, where kids have slugs in their hair, and wear their robes a funny way, and there isn't a wand in sight.

I peek out the window of our apartment and look up to the guard tower, a place where somebody's Dad sits with a wand so powerful, someone says _"Confringo"_ and the whole place is blasted to smithereens.

My Dad is up there too. He has guard duty on another tower. He handles dementors. Blimey, what's he doing guarding the prison? Mom's unpacking and Olivia is sitting on the floor, running her hands through her mini-wand box.

She is obsessed with the mini-wands. I could take one wand, hide it behind my back, and she would take one look at the box and tell the exact one that's missing. "Olivia, you okay?" I sit down on the floor next to her. "Wesley and Olivia go on a train. Wesley and Olivia get chocolate frogs. Wesley and Olivia get Heinrich C. Agrippa." "Yeah, we did that, and now we're here with some pleasant wizards and witches like Fenrir Greyback and Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Olivia Bowen's whole family." "Well, more like neighbors."

"Wesley and Olivia go to school." she says. "Yeah, but not Garmendurm anymore. You're going to this _nice_ place called the Albus W. P. B. Dumbledore." I say, trying to sound serious. "_Nice_ place." she repeats, pretending to shoot a spell at another wand.

I've never been good at fooling Olivia. She knows me too well. When I was five, I was a runt; I was the smallest of my huge family and my friends. Then, I started growing, every single day. Now im five foot eleven and ¾ inches—as tall as my Mom and a good two inches bigger than my Dad. My father says he's going to put my supper in Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans boxes and label it, Growth Formula.

I think about entering my room, but it smells like a rotten bogey flavored bean. My bed, instead of the four poster, a squeaky army cot. When I sit down, it sounds like dozens of rats are having the Cruciatus Curse on them. There's no muggle equipment here. No wand case. No spellbook. Gah, they don't let criminals in here…_do they?_

I'm a little scared. Anybody would. Even the silence is scary. It feels "too quiet" instead of quiet. I think about telling my friend, Rupert, about this place. "It's the Dark Lord's island. _Doo, doo, doo." _Rupert would say in a deep voice. "Dark Lord's Island, Doo_, doo, doo. _But it doesn't seem funny without Rupert. Ok, I'm sleeping with my robes on. Who wants to face a Death Eater in your pajamas?

**2. Errand Wizard**

**Saturday, January 5, 1972**

When I wake up, I feel kinda stupid, having slept with my shoes on and my wand under the covers with me. My Mom's banging around in the tiny hall outside my room. I stick the wand in my pocket. "Where's Dad?" I ask. "Right here." my dad answers from the living room. He's sitting on the floor with Olivia, holding a few tiny wands in each hand.

"Dad! Could you show me the prison from a bird's eye view, and then maybe we could play quidditch?" I sound like I'm six and a half, but I can't help it. It's lonely when he's not around.


End file.
